All the Good Things
by Tressa
Summary: Another Duo fic. He begins to thing about his life as a pilot . . . and the lives he's cut short because of it. I stink at summeries. You're probably better off just reading it.


Title: All the Good Things  
Author: Tressa  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or situations here. They all belong to Sunrise/Sotsu Agency. Please don't sue.  
  
Authors: The pleasing thing about fanfiction is that if you feeling kinda depressed ( like me today) you can use those feelings to your advantage. Write a story! I know I usually feel better when it's finally out. Shhhh, that way your roommates won't find out and they'll never know why you've been feeling grumpy all weekend. I shall use my fave character for this type of thing, Duo-chan!  
  
Also, there are some religious stuff in here. Kinda. If you're offended by this I'm just notifying you right now. Thank you.  
  
  
All the Good Things  
  
Rain. It was amazing how nature seemed to mirror the feelings of the day. Or maybe the feelings mirrored nature. Whatever the case, it was raining. And he didn't care one bit. Wet tendrils of hair plastered to the side of his face, his empty Cobalt blue eyes and lack of conversation even told strangers that something was not right with this young man.  
  
Duo Maxwell. Shinigami. God of Death.  
  
What exactly did that mean? He had remembered when he first tacked that title onto his name. But he couldn't remember why. He just knew that ever since he was little, his life had been nothing but despair. Sure there had been times when he had been happy. But like most things, these happy times were snatched away. It was almost as though he wasn't privy to these types of things. Sometimes when he was alone, unbeknownst to the others, he would sit and ponder these things. But never had it hit him this hard. Never had it slammed into him that his life wasn't all sunshine and butterflies. Oh, he knew before that he was different. They all were. And they were probably all harboring their own private pains. Unfortunately, Duo was the only who let his emotions completely rule his will. So when he was feeling like this, he would escape. He didn't need his dreary attitude to carry on to the others. They were in the middle of a war, and distracting feelings weren't necessary.  
  
Besides, if he did try to talk, Heero would just tell him to shut up.  
  
That wasn't to say that Heero was an uncaring, inhuman person. Sure, he teased him about it, but it wasn't true. He just knew his priorities. And while it might bother him some that Duo was feeling this way, Duo's feelings weren't top priority. Unless of course it interfered with their missions.  
  
He kicked a pebble with his well worn boots and watched as it skipped into the river where he had been walking. He wished he could see the river during the day. But during the day, there was just no time. And it wasn't safe. So, he had to concede to taking these walks at night. The pebble splashed down into the water and attempted to ripple out like it always did. But the rain didn't allow it too, instead interrupting the natural pattern. Boy, did he know how that ripple must have felt. If ripples felt. He bent down to retrieve another pebble, when his bandaged hand forced him to stop. His bandaged hand. The one he had cut while attempting to rip the wires out of the security hazard. It had to go. He knew it did. If not, hundreds of people would die, soldiers and civilians alike.   
  
He never made it.  
  
His hand burned with phantom pains as he squeezed it tight. Dang it! He could feel wetness run down his cheek, but he couldn't be sure if it was tears or simply the rain. He tasted something salty, verifying the tears.   
  
All those people had died because of him. Because he was too freaken' slow. He felt bad about the soldiers, but a small part of him hushed this, telling him those soldiers were willing to die for what they believed in. However, the civilians didn't deserve what he had done to them. It was a cruel and heartless way to die. And he had been the instigator.  
  
Shinigami had struck again.  
  
Continuing on, not caring about the now pounding rain, he walked away from the canal and headed toward the town they were near. As he entered, he could see people staring at him, most likely unsure what to think of him. Here was this boy, in a priest outfit and black cap, with nothing but the dark jacket he wore to protect him. He didn't want their pity. There was a reason he was walking around in the rain. Part of him just didn't care that he was soaked. He just needed to get out.  
  
But the other part of him felt that in some miraculous chance, the rain would wash away his sins. Wash away the blood on his hands. His recent mistake reminded him of how valuable life was . . . and how easily it could be taken away.  
  
He passed an ice cream shop and briefly glanced inside. Teenagers, people his age, were inside laughing and talking. He saw a couple soldiers inside with either boys or girls, reliving possible past dangers and their disillusioned romantic view of war.  
  
"Fools," he muttered to himself. Almost as though one had heard him, a female soldier looked up from the sundae she was sharing with some guy. They eyes met, before Duo glanced away and continued on. She had seen Death. Sadly to say, she wasn't going to live. Not if she went up against him and his comrades.  
  
He passed more stores before coming to another part of town. It was a quiet residential neighborhood. And it the midst of the houses, was chapel. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. Just a humble neighborhood chapel. He went up to the doors, relieved that is was still open. He took one step up the concrete stairs and paused. Was he really worthy to enter? Even after all he did? He didn't know how long he stayed there, letting the rain continue to drench him. But he was there long enough for the local priest to notice him.  
  
"My son, does something trouble you?"  
  
Duo snapped out of his reverie and looked up to see the kindly face of the priest. He stood frozen for a minute, then shook his head.  
  
"Nothing father, I was just . . . thinking."  
  
"You're soaked," the priest commented. "Why don't you come in and I'll have Sister Mary Margaret get some towels for you."  
  
"I, I," Duo stuttered. He didn't know what to say. "I appreciate it, but I really shouldn't."  
  
The priest's smile faded and was replaced with concern. "And why is that?"  
  
Duo suddenly laughed. He didn't know why, he just did. "I'm not worthy to, Father. I've done too many things to go in there. I'm not even a believer."  
  
"It doesn't matter," the priest answered. "We accept everyone in."  
  
Hesitantly, Duo walked up the stairs and stepped into the church. The priest hurried off, calling for the nun. She returned with some fresh towels and began to fuss over Duo.  
  
"My child, you're soaked to the bone." Allowing her to help dry him off, Duo's thoughts went to time he spent in the Maxwell Church. About how he missed those who cared for him. And about how this nun reminded him so much of his Sister Helen. She removed his jacket, then stopped. "A clerical collar," she said, fingering the collar on Duo's clothes.  
  
"A reminder of my past," he answered her unspoken question. She took his hat and his jacket and handed him a dry towel, leaving with the soaked items, promising to return them to him. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, he noticed another patron was there as well, lighting candles and saying prayers. Slowly making his way up to the front, he preceded to do the same. "This is for all those who I've hurt," he whispered. As soon as a candle was lit he sat and watched the flames dance in the low light of the chapel. One lady beside him was praying that her son, who was injured in a mobile suit battle, would be able to have full use of his legs again. Duo turned away, hoping that his facial expressions weren't giving him away. Maybe he shouldn't have come here. Maybe it was a bad idea. What he didn't expect was what the lady said next.   
  
"And please, bless those young souls who have done this to my son. Please bless those Gundam pilots. Help them to overcome and help straighten this situation out, so that no one else would be hurt. And although they probably have no idea about my Jared, please forgive them for what they have done. I'm sure they are just as confused as everyone else, not knowing what's right and wrong."  
  
His head whipped around to face the woman. Never in his life had heard such a thing. From what she had said, her son had been wounded in battle against them. And she wasn't upset. She didn't want revenge. She wanted them to be blessed. It was all to strange for him. Sure, he had heard the Father and the Sister say such things, but he chose to ignore them. The lady finished, stood up, and walked away. He watched her go, then turned back to the candle he had been staring at.  
  
"Well," he said as soon as she left. "I've never done this before. And I probably shouldn't be doing this. I," He stopped as he felt his eyes water. "I don't know what is going to happen. This has been going on for so long. And I'm scared. I'm afraid to die. I'm afraid my friends will die. Because that's all that's ever been around me. No matter what happens, they always end up leaving me!" He leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. "I try to keep up the cheerfulness. I try to be optimistic. Some days it's easy, others . . . I see what I've done and for what!? When will the dying stop! Why is it that it has to be me?! Why?! Why do I have to be Shinigami!? Why has everyone died except for me?!" His last statement was cut short by the sob that rose in his throat. He was crying. When was the last time he cried? Slowly he cried himself to sleep.  
  
He was dreaming. It had to be a dream. Nothing in reality could look this peaceful. It was then he saw her. He felt his eyes widened and jaw drop.  
  
"Sister Helen?"  
  
The kindly nun smiled at him. Duo felt his lips turn up into a smile as well. He wanted to run up to her and throw his arms around her. He wanted to hear the comforting words she would tell him. Instead, he stood there. "You're supposed to be dead," he whispered.  
  
"I am," she said. "But I couldn't bear to watch you beat yourself like this. It hurts to watch. It hurts Father Maxwell to watch."  
  
"I'm sorry," he managed. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you or Father Maxwell. I tried, I really did!"  
  
"You were only eight years," she said softly. "There wasn't anything you could do." She paused. "Thank you for trying, though. And thank you for continuing on."  
  
"Do you remember what I told you when I first came? About Shinigami? It's true you know. I'm him. And I don't deserve to be anything but him."  
  
The smile on her face quickly disappeared. "Duo . . ."  
  
He cut her off. "It's true! You've seen everything I've done! I can't let those escape me. They are there to stay. The last good thing to happen to me was you and Father Maxwell. And after that, my life has gone downhill. So many innocents . . ." he trailed off.  
  
"Duo, I want you to listen to me and listen good." Sister Helen held her hands in front of her. "There is always a reason for something. You can't blame yourself for everything that has happened."  
  
"You died because I wasn't fast enough."  
  
"They would've killed us anyway," she said. "However, do you think you would've been able to do what you do now if you had remained in the church?"  
  
He opened his mouth to say something else, then stopped. If he had remained in the church, would he be a Gundam pilot? Probably not. "But then people wouldn't suffer at my hand if I did."  
  
"Look at all the people you saved," she answered. "All those people. Because you wanted to help. You wanted to spare as many lives as possible. So you took this burden on yourself. And what if you hadn't taken up Deathscythe? Some other young noble pilot would've received it. But who's to say he or she was as perfectly matched as you are? Whose to say that he or she would've been able to do the things you do? And look at what you have managed to accomplish. The people you've met and helped along the way. Yes, Duo, you have taken the lives of many people. You may feel the way you did when you were younger. But in return, you've managed to save the lives of thousands. And you've done it selflessly, putting others before yourself." She smiled again. "Although sometimes I do wish you'd be a little more careful. You aren't indestructible."  
  
"I'm still Shinigami," he murmured.   
  
"Believe what you like," Sister Helen commented. "But please take what I say into account. If you do say you are, then try looking at it this way. Yes, you may take lives. But you can also save them." She came toward him and embraced him warmly. "Take care of yourself. And remember, despite all the sorrow you've seen, you've come out on top. I loved you like a son. You are my son and I'll always be watching over you."  
  
He reached out to touch her, to hear her voice. She faded from his view, yet the warm touch was still there. Slowly, he awoke to find the nun he had just met, rubbing his back, a blanked wrapped around his shoulders.  
  
"I'm glad to see you've finally woke up," she said softly. "You slept here the entire night."  
  
At her words, Duo shot up and glanced at his watch. He was so dead. Heero was probably steamed he didn't come back in time. He glanced at the nun. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I really must go." He stood.  
  
"I heard you talking."  
  
He stopped. She had heard him? "Oh? Probably nothing different then what you've heard before."  
  
"On the contrary, it was. You're hurting, I can see that. But don't worry young man. Everything will be ok." She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, and opened it again. "If you don't mind me asking, who was Sister Helen?"  
  
Duo blushed. "A nun who cared for me when I was little. She taught me how to feel, how to love and care. How to be loved and cared for. She was an angel." His mood darkened. "And then she was taken from me. Both her and Father Maxwell. And I couldn't do anything." His shoulder's relaxed. "But I have a feeling she's happy with me. Happy that I'm still alive."  
  
"She sounds like a very special person."  
  
"She was," he answered. "She is."  
  
"Young man, I believe you have visitors." Turning around, Duo saw the priest coming towards him. With the other four pilots following him.  
  
"Yo! Guys! Sorry I didn't come back last night. I sorta had some thinking I had to do."  
  
Quatre Raberba Winner looked at him, his head tilted to the side a bit. "You look better then yesterday." The blond pilot of Sandrock broke out into a grin. "You sound better."  
  
"You better believe it, Q-man." Turning back to the nun and the priest who had taken a place by her side, he smiled a genuine smile. "Thank you . For everything."  
  
"I hope things work out," the nun said. "And remember you aren't alone."  
  
He nodded, retrieved his jacket and hat from here and stepped outside. It was bright, sunny day. Any remnants of the storm the previous night had disappeared. As they headed down the stairs, they heard a screeching sound and a loud explosion. Off in the distance, a gigantic fireball erupted in the air.  
  
"Oy vei," Duo muttered. "Here we go again." The hurriedly jumped into the car that was waiting and took off, mentally preparing themselves for battle.  
  
As they rode in silence, Duo thought about his 'conversation' with Sister Helen. He would still be Shinigami, but he could now focus on the other half to why he was. He could prevent Death from falling on others. He would continued to protect the people. He would do exactly what he had promised and had seemed to forgotten. For peace, he would gladly become something he feared. And maybe, just maybe, be able to help those that feared him.  
  
Life was too precious to waste.  
  
  
Wow, that was longer then I had anticipated. Hope everyone likes it!  
  



End file.
